


What are we but our stories?

by FactoryKat



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Canon Rewrite, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, First Kiss, Fluff, Happy Anders (Dragon Age), Hawke & Varric Tethras Friendship, M/M, Mage Hawke (Dragon Age), POV Anders (Dragon Age), Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:40:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24870952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FactoryKat/pseuds/FactoryKat
Summary: Varric digs for details on exactly how Anders and Hawke got together.
Relationships: Anders/Male Hawke
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29





	What are we but our stories?

**Author's Note:**

> Just a retelling of the first kiss between Hawke and Anders. Hawke left fairly ambiguous apart from class and gender.

For once in what felt like an eternity, the spirit within was notably silent. There was no buzzing or vague urging in the back of his consciousness dripping with hints of guilt over spending his evening here in the tavern rather than slaving away in the clinic. Not that he didn't enjoy what he did - it was fulfilling to help the citizens of Kirkwall's undercity - but he had come to relish the idea of taking a well-deserved break from time to time. Much in part to Hawke's influence. Speaking of Hawke - Anders' thoughts and his eyes traveled to his partner even as he laid his hand down on the table as a show of defeat. As usual, he was losing, but the atmosphere in the Hanged Man this evening was different, much more relaxed.

Beside him, Hawke found himself locked in a heated bet with Fenris and Anders couldn't stop the smile that grew from watching them. There was a distinct lack of charged animosity lingering in the air amongst the group, and Anders leaned into his chair a little more comfortably. If every outing went like this one, he might start to think he was having delusions-

"So, Hawke-" Varric interrupted his inner musings as he scrambled over to the table, clutching a few sheets of parchment in one hand and peered over the top of a pair of spectacles at the two of them.

Anders would have been lying if he said he wasn't just a little bit curious about what the dwarf was plotting. "You're giving me that look again. What are you writing this time," he asked with mistrust.

Already on the defensive, Varric raised his other hand. "Now, Blondie, don't be so suspicious. I'm just here to do some fact-gathering. You should be more concerned about how you're going to pay your debt to the Rivaini." The grin he wore on his broad face was much too sly, too smarmy to be anything harmless.

"Oh, don't worry. _We_ have an agreement." Isabela smiled, and Anders couldn't help a chuckle when he saw the impish glint in her eyes.

Hawke, finally having lost to the elf sitting across from him, chimed in on the conversation finally. His timing couldn’t have been any more convenient. "Wait, hold on-"

"We have one as well." Fenris' stated quite matter-of-factly, his expression cooly neutral, while Isabela looked every bit like the cat who ate the canary.

By now, Hawke was perplexed and conceivably a little bit exasperated judging by the harrowed look on his face and a hint of concern that strained his voice much as he might try to mask it. Anders considered himself good at observation; the subtle changes in body language, among other things, were not lost on him. "None of you have ever mentioned _that_ before!"

With laughter catching in the back of his throat, he grabbed his partner's hand as a show of reassurance. "It's fine, love. It's certainly not what you think, believe me." He squeezed the hand locked in his for good measure, and at once, Hawke's posture relaxed. Anders knew it was not a show of jealousy - not once in their relationship had that ever shown to be a problem - so he felt comfortable finding humor in his lover's knee-jerk reaction.

"Alright, you two. I need some details." Ah, Varric. He certainly knew how to time his interjections just right. The stout dwarf was practically salivating at the thought of getting a good story as he studied his notes on the parchment he still clutched firmly in hand. "Did you go down on one knee? Did you swear eternal vows of love, or is this just a physical thing?"

Hawke had been ready and primed to answer, a grin already forming on his handsome face. Anders, however, was less eager to divulge details of their private life. Even to a friend. "I don't see how that's any of your business," he stated bluntly.

"Fine." Varric shrugged his shoulders, ready to slink away. "But if you don't tell me, I'm just going to have to make it up."

 _Of course, he would. Maker's sake._ "Is nothing sacred to you?"

"Blondie, would I ever do either of you wrong?"

"Is that a trick question?" Hawke quipped with a chuckle and leaned back in his chair.

"Bah. That was one time. Besides, don't you want the world to know what _really_ happened?"

The hair along the back of his neck and across his arms prickled, and Anders felt the familiar itch starting to claw at him. It did not amount to much more than a vague sense of annoyance simmering in the recess of his thoughts, however. He was happy to let Hawke tell some watered-down variation of the tale if it placated Varric, and he could keep the real events close to his heart.

_It had begun so simply, so innocently - perhaps if only on Hawke's part._

* * *

"Teach me," came a voice suddenly, and Anders, immersed in sweeping, finally looked up. He had grown accustomed to Hawke showing up unannounced, and the restless rumblings of Justice _about_ the other mage had long since grown quiet ever since he began lending his efforts to the cause and the clinic. Quite often it was a practice in patience for Anders to ignore him - no not ignore _him_ but the way the mage's eyes lingered on him almost as if -

Well, it didn't matter. Nothing good would come of giving into wanton desires. Much as he loathed to agree with the spirit, Anders knew Hawke was a distraction. He could drag his feet and protest as much as he wished, but it was futile to ignore the truth.

Still, the declaration had come as a surprise. "What?"

Hawke emerged further into the clinic, well past the threshold now, minimizing the distance between them. Each step was in rhythm to the increasing staccato of Anders's pounding heart. "I want you to teach me all you know. I've seen you in battle, Anders. You're incredible."

 _Incredible_. Karl had said that about him once before, had he not? Heat flooded his cheeks as the blurred memory seeped into reality. It had only been a compliment, and yet there he was searching for more beneath the polite words. Anders tore his eyes away to reframe his thoughts and to clear his head. "I thought your father taught you."

"He did." Hawke's voice, for all its depth, was soft and pleasant. "He tried, at least. But even I know it wasn't enough. My father - he had been in the Circle too. He taught us enough to survive and to defend ourselves."

For a moment, the haze cleared, and Anders overcame his baser urges to react appropriately. "Your father had been a Circle mage? You never mentioned that before!" That made more sense and lent credence to why he recognized some of the techniques Hawke had used in previous fights. "I suppose as apostates he wouldn't have wanted to draw too much attention. Still, you're quite lucky to have had someone like him."

"How about you? Who in your family was a mage?"

Anders felt the color drain from his face, and the heat dissipated, leaving behind a prickly chill that settled uncomfortably in his chest. "I'm - not quite sure. I never got to find out…"

At once, Hawke's expression morphed into one of pity as he stood up straight, and his brows creased in the usual way whenever he was deeply concerned. "Ah, I'm sorry. I didn't realize that was a sensitive subject for you."

"No, no, it's alright." Anders waved it off, dismissing his apology. "It's just not something I tried to look into, nor could I. Not while I was in the circle or the Wardens." _Liar_. Anders chastised himself, knowing the falsehoods he just spun. He had indeed done some digging, with the Warden Commander's help. Although his research had not gotten him very far before he voluntarily gave up after finding more reasons to be sour over the memory of his father.

Training someone else was not something Anders had ever considered before. He had been a mentor of sorts to the younger mages and apprentices whilst in the Circle, but the circumstances had been quite different. Still, seeing the hopeful smile on Hawke's face pulled at his heartstrings all the more. This was not some casual acquaintance wanting a few pointers; it was _Hawke_ \- a competent man in his own right coming to him with stars in his eyes and laying reverence at his feet.

"I suppose if you're serious," Anders nearly sputtered.

"I am!" _Was it his imagination, or was there a hint of color in Hawke's cheeks?_ "Serious about you-- about training me… Bloody Maker, I'm terrible at this. I should probably go."

Anders felt his legs move unbidden but found neither the desire nor strength to stop them. Not before he had found purchase on his friend's arm, preventing him from his hasty retreat. "Wait-" he heard himself say, realizing too late what he had done.

There was only a second of hesitation in Hawke's gait before turning back around to face him, with a much softer expression. While Anders didn't recoil as a hand reached for him, his shoulders tensed, and his breath caught in his throat. Calloused fingers grazed his forehead while carefully brushing away stray wisps of hair that had escaped his ponytail. A pleasant shiver raced down his spine and seemed to be all the encouragement he needed. Like a cat pouncing on his prey, Anders lurched forward and closed the gap between them in a swift motion. Hawke's lips were softer than he had expected, a contrast to the hands pawing eagerly at him, and yet, he didn't mind the rough-hewn palms against his cheeks. Rather, he minded them less when they traveled the length of him, slipping beneath his coat to grab his rear.

They parted long enough to catch their breath and for Hawke to hoist him up into his arms and across the clinic. Anders braced himself when his back met the wall of his makeshift room but quickly gave in to the hazy euphoria brought on by being lauded with affection. Hawke's mouth left his own just long enough to leave a trail of kisses along his throat while hands fumbled with the heavy buckles of his overcoat.

"Too many layers…" the words buzzed against his jaw and ear.

Anders was about to reply with something witty, but voices echoed just outside the clinic's doors. Instead, he cursed low under his breath and scrambled to free himself. The disappointment was evident on Hawke's face. There was only a moment to spare before being robbed of privacy, but he didn't wish to waste it. A firm grip on his companion's forearm was all it took to settle the butterflies beating away inside his chest.

"I'll come to you," Anders said, his voice low but earnest. "Tonight. If your door is open. If it's not -"

Anders noted that Hawke was not satisfied with anything less than a final kiss, as the taller man slipped effortlessly into his personal space again to steal one. It was short but whisper-soft, a gentle reassurance rather than the heated passion from moments ago. "It will be." He hadn't needed to say anything for Anders to believe it, to know it already in his heart that Hawke meant it.

* * *

"That's it?" Varric's voice abruptly chased away the hazy daydream that had almost swallowed him up. "Come on, Hawke. Don't leave me hanging here."

Anders rolled his eyes with a snort. "Don't push your luck, Varric."

Grinning wildly, Hawke snatched the spectacles the dwarf had laid on the table and gave them a once over before putting them on. The mage loomed over him obnoxiously, clearly up to no good. "Hey Anders, would you have still kissed me if I were wearing these?"

"You look ridiculous." His emotions betrayed his words, spilling out in a bark of laughter. Try as he might, Anders couldn't maintain a mask of stoicism.

"And you didn't answer my question. Should I take that as a yes?"

Arms snaked around his torso and nearly pulled him right out of his chair. Anders half-heartedly struggled as Hawke nuzzled the crook of his neck overly affectionately. "I am purposefully avoiding the question!"

Varric's sigh went entirely unheard, as did the exhaustion in his voice. "Alright, you two. Give those back to me before you smudge them. Or break them, knowing Hawke."

Eventually, the playful struggles ceased, and the two of them settled in their chairs again. Anders idly returned the cards he had set aside to the deck and watched Fenris do the same before Isabela gleefully collected the pot in the center of the table. Beside him, Hawke had finally surrendered the glasses back to the dwarf. "Varric, am I nothing but a story to you?"

"What are we _but_ our stories?"

"Touche, I suppose. Buy us another round, and maybe I'll share the rest."

"Hawke!" Anders protested, but his lover only smiled coyly and pressed a kiss to his temple.


End file.
